


Love

by missblatherskite



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-13 21:38:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14121360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missblatherskite/pseuds/missblatherskite
Summary: She'd never loved a lover before.





	Love

Izzy didn’t fall in love. She loved. Of course, she loved. She loved her brothers. She loved her father. She even loved her mother. But she had never, ever, fallen in love with a lover. Cared for them, yes. But love? Her feelings had never come close to that.

 

Clary changed that. Clary with her hair like fire, and her personality to match. Clary with her sweet smiles, her wicked smiles. In between the sighs and the moans she fell for her. She fell for her when she knew she shouldn’t.

 

Clary was all passion, throwing herself into relationships, friendships or romances, with all she had. When she felt, her heart was bared for all.

 

But this wasn’t meant to be a relationship, wasn’t meant to be a love. It was supposed to be an extension to their friendship, not truly romantic. She couldn’t tell if Clary’s feelings for her had changed or not—if they were simply those for a friend or something more.

 

She didn’t dare ask. For once she was a coward, too scared of losing her, too worried to be brave. She was usually so sure of herself, so confident in her relationships. Her feelings made this different. 

 

She didn’t let it affect her in any noticeable ways, keeping them for only herself. When Clary was asleep in her bed, she was laying her head on her chest, listening to her heart. In the mornings, she was watching as she slept, breath silent, hair a mess around her face—fingers reaching out, just shy of touching her.

 

She could hide an addiction from her brother, her brother who knew her better than anyone. She could hide her feelings from Clary. It was easy, really. It didn’t matter that it hurt a little more each day. She’d cling to what she could get. She’d curse at how little she got.

 

But everything must come to an end. It started slowly, Clary pulling away bit by bit. First it was kissing less, then leaving right after they had sex—withdrawing from small, casual touches.

 

This was it, she thought. She was going to lose her. The only person she had ever fallen in love with didn’t want to be with her any longer. And for all her strength, she couldn’t bear this. So she abandoned her pride, threw it out the window, said fuck it to letting go gracefully. And she begged.

 

She started strong, telling Clary what she meant to her with confidence, voice unwavering. It lasted less than a minute before she ruined what little control she had over her feelings. She cried. Big, ugly tears streaking down her reddened face.

 

“I love you so much. I’ve never loved anyone else like this. But I love you. And I know you’re pulling away and it’s awful. Because I want you, and I want you to want me back. I want you to love me back.”

 

It felt like ages, standing in front of her, face a mess, makeup ruined, any pride she’d had left thoroughly crushed by her words. There was no going back no, no way to stop this from possibly ruining everything.

 

“I didn’t know,” Clary said, in a quiet voice.

 

Her hand reached out carefully, gently touching her arm. She sucked in a breath. It could be to console, it could be a show of her feelings. She didn’t dare speculate.

 

“I thought it was me—I thought it was only me. I couldn’t keep being just a friend to you, just someone you had sex with and didn’t love. Because I love you, Izzy. So much. I couldn’t keep doing what we were doing.”

 

“But now?” Izzy asked.

 

“Now? I want us to stop what we were doing. I don’t want it to be the same. I don’t want it to be sex. I want it to be more.”

 

“I want that. I want more, too. I want, I want—I want _you_.”

 

“You have me.”

 

Maybe falling in love wasn’t a bad thing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism is always welcome.


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